Micky 'Baby Smooth Legs' Dolenz
by TorketteMonkette
Summary: [Crack!fic-ish? / ONESHOT] Micky takes a dare. Now he's sitting on the edge of the tub, staring at his furry bigfoot legs. What has he gotten himself into?


**Warnings:** (very) mild language, lots of talk of shaving (does that make people queasy? idk), brief mention of shooting a bird, the word "crotch"? I think that's it?

 **A/N:** Yay! Crack fic! Wait, would this be considered crack? I don't know, whatever.

Tbh, this was inspired by my recent adventures in shaving. I stole shaving cream from my brothers and oH MY GOODNESS my legs were so gloriously smooth. Plus, I smelled like a (nice smelling - in case I need to clarify) lumberjack. It was pretty cool.

Anyway, take this. Have fun. Hope you enjoy it.

* * *

Micky sat on the edge of the tub, wearing only a t-shirt and boxers. He stared down at his legs that were covered in thick dark hair.

Out of the four of them, he had the most right to call himself a monkey. Or, well, a "monkee", rather.

He wasn't sure where he got it from - his Irish heritage, maybe? - but the hair on his body was as thick as it comes.

Really, if he moved to the middle of nowhere and grew all his hair out, people would probably think he was Bigfoot. The thought made him crack a smile. But the smile fell again.

Sometimes being Micky "Daredevil" Dolenz got him into a lot of trouble. This time was no exception. He mentally kicked himself. What was he thinking?

He scolded himself for taking the dare. For saying what he'd said. "Hey, I'm no chicken. I'll take any dare! Gimme your best shot."

And did Davy give it. "I dare you to shave your legs. Both of them."

Micky went to protest, but Davy was persistent. Peter was beside himself. The idea of Micky - the hairiest of all of them - shaving his leg hair? Hilarious.

Mike smirked in his direction. With a shrug, he said, "You chose dare, Mick."

Micky glared at Davy. He'd smack that smug look off his face if he could. Whose idea was it to play truth or dare, anyway? Why did it have to be raining?

Micky continued to curse the weather and Davy and everything in between as he got up from his chair. Davy clapped and whooped. Peter joined in. God, did he want to get back at them.

But what was he to do? He sunk from the side of tub to the floor.

A light bulb went off above his head. He'd use Davy's razor as revenge. That would show hi- no. Wait. Davy didn't have a razor. The little Englishman couldn't grow a beard to save his life. Micky slumped back against the tub. Great.

He finally stood to get his razor and shaving cream from the sink. Might as well get it over with. Micky made sure the door was locked. He didn't want anyone parading in to mock him. He'd get enough of that after he was done.

He settled down on the edge of the tub again, this time resting his feet inside. Micky turned on the water and stuck one leg under it. It was cold at first, but warmed up soon enough.

The way he'd decided to do it was like this. One leg at a time, ankle to the tops of his thighs... and he'd take off his boxers if he had to. He added that as an afterthought.

At least Davy hadn't dared him to shave his crotch. Things could be worse.

So Micky piled shaving cream in his hand. He'd need a lot. He spread it over his left leg, sure to cover it in an even layer.

Then, the task really began. His razor was intended for his face, but there couldn't be much of a difference. A blade is a blade. As planned, he started at his ankle.

The razor was immediately covered in hair. Annoying. Micky stuck the blade under the running water in hopes of rinsing it out. Then he started again.

So, he thought, this is what it's like for women, huh? Well... maybe not exactly like this all the time. Maybe only once in their lives. And never this bad, right?

Still, he felt sympathy for every woman at that moment. Shaving your body is stupid. Sure, it looks nice, he reasoned. But is it really worth it?

He liked it, personally. But why shave _all_ the time? Putting up a facade that women are completely hairless. Body hair is a natural thing. Geez, society, loosen up.

Thinking about that too hard was bound to make him angry. And an angry man with a razor didn't sound like a good thing. So he stopped thinking about it. Every lady should be able to do what they want, and he left it at that. That aside, he focused on getting the hair out of his razor.

This process of shaving and rinsing went on for a while. Before long, he had one leg done.

He admired how smooth it was for a brief moment. There was skin there that he hadn't seen since he was a kid.

As he started on the next one, someone knocked on the door.

"Micky?" It was Peter. "How much longer are you gonna be? I've already had three cokes, I don't know if I can hold it."

"Hey," he called over his shoulder, "maybe you should've thought about that before daring me to shave my hairy-ass legs!"

Sure, Peter wasn't the one to dare him. But he still meant it. Peter could have taken his side. Helped him out a little, you know. But did he? Nope. So Micky wasn't going to help him.

He heard Davy snort on the other side of the door. Peter giggled and the two busted into a laughing fit.

Micky rolled his eyes.

After shaving one leg, Micky felt he had the hang of it. Shaving the second seemed like a breeze. But, just to be sure, he went over both of them one more time.

He rinsed off both legs, dried them with a towel, and tossed out the razor. It was probably dull after all that work. Micky stood and stretched.

Reaching over to touch his toes, he rubbed his legs. They were so smooth. So soft. It was amazing.

"Micky, please!" Peter cried. He thumped his body against the door. Thump, thump, thu- Micky opened the door. He was as ready as he would ever be. Time to face his tormentors- friends. His friends.

"Come get a good look, 'cause they're not gonna be like this for long!" Micky called, easily catching everyone's attention.

Davy and Peter had the same reaction. Their faces lit up in such amusement, Micky thought he might go blind. Davy looked so, so smug again. For a moment, Micky hoped he _would_ go blind. And deaf. So he wouldn't have to hear what was coming next.

Mike laughed to himself. He really didn't expect Micky to do it. He thought Mick would just hide out in the bathroom for a while, then leave, waving his middle finger at Davy.

That's what _he_ would've done, anyway.

As expected, Davy ranted and raved, grinning like he'd just won his first race as a pro jockey. Micky stood there and took it like a _true_ pro. He let the two rub his legs in disbelief.

"Baby smooth, right?" Micky crossed his arms.

Davy and Peter started giggling again. A look of horror washed over Peter's face. He bolted into the bathroom and slammed the door, making Davy double over in laughter.

Micky rolled his eyes. He headed for the stairs. "There's something wrong with him." he jerked his thumb over his shoulder.

Mike nodded, smiling in amusement.

"You wanna feel?" Micky stuck a leg out at him.

Mike laughed, shaking his head, "Naw, I'm good."

Micky gave a short nod and went up the stairs, muttering about needing a new pair of boxers and pants.

When the door was shut safely behind him, Micky sighed. Thank goodness that was over.

It wasn't as bad as he expected it to be. It could've been worse. After all, Davy was probably going to bust a gut, Peter almost peed himself, and he got soft, smooth legs. Every cloud does have a silver lining.

Overall, not a very bad experience. He rubbed his legs. He could get used to the feeling of it. It didn't seem like a bad idea. Then again, he thought better of it. Shaving all the time - likely every other day, in his case? Not his bag, definitely not.

Micky grabbed a new set of clothes.

Smooth legs were nice, he could admit that. Yet, he decided to leave them to ladies and swimmers. And whoever else.

* * *

 **A/N:** I know I described Mick as massively hairy, and yeah, that may sound like an exaggeration, but let's be real here. That is one hairy man. He's an ape, I swear. I should know, I stared at pictures of him before I started writing (all for research purposes, shh shh).

Mike, on the other hand, looks like he has bear arms. But that's another thing. Hey, why don't we ever talk about how hairy the Monkees are? Is it too weird? It's too weird, isn't it. Heh.


End file.
